Serenity curtsied to Melchior and blew him a kiss before turning to leave the room. She ushered Nilam with a hand behind the girl’s head. Erezion met them halfway and escorted them across the room while Chigaru opened the door, made sure the hall was clear of any threat, and waited for them to exit.
Once Serenity was at his side, a little of his jealousy subsided. A quick glance at Melchior revealed the emotion had found a new home. The male glared at Chigaru in open hostility. The whole of the country treated Melchior and Chigaru’s cold war over Serenity’s affection as a favored topic.
One and all knew Chigaru loved his queen, though had never acted on it. They also knew that same love was the reason Melchior allowed Chigaru to retain his position as captain of the Hell Hounds. Chigaru would lay down his life for Serenity. All the Hell Hounds would. They all loved her that much. For Melchior to fault Chigaru for his love would mean faulting the other Hell Hounds as well, so they remained at a stalemate.
Chigaru closed the door to the audience chamber and Melchior’s anger. The male showed his insecurity when he acted like that. Chigaru would not touch Serenity until she asked it of him, and she would never ask.
Serenity said, “Shall we visit the Ladies of the Circle? They have new clothes for you, Nilam, since you are growing so quickly.”
The little girl sighed and rolled her dual-iris red and yellow eyes. Only descendants of the royal family had eyes of red and yellow. If not for her eyes, blue hair, and blue horns, many would wonder if Melchior had fathered Nilam because she looked human otherwise. She had Serenity’s brown skin and could be mistaken for a normal human if she wore a hooded cloak and kept her eyes to the ground.
The obvious dominance of human traits in a mixed child further served to anger those who didn’t want a half-breed on the throne. And it wasn’t a fluke. The three boys born to Theyn, another Hell Hound, and Alexa, Serenity’s head maid, showed the same traits—hair, horns, and eyes that resembled their father’s within a human body that resembled their mother’s.
“Head’s up.”
Chigaru hadn’t needed the warning since he heard the three energetic boys stampeding toward them long before their father called out, but did Theyn the courtesy of looking in his direction.
The boys, a set of twins and their older brother, ran full tilt toward Chigaru and his party. The oldest boy, who brought up the rear, yelled, “We’re playing tag and I’m it.”
Nilam bounced in place, looking from her mother to the boys.
Serenity sighed but still nodded. “Go on then. You can be fitted later.”
Nilam beamed up at her mother before she took off running. The boys blew past them.
Theyn yelled, “Hold it.”
All three boys skidded to a halt and faced their father.
“Manners.” He gestured to Serenity.
She blinked and smiled sweetly at the boys.
The boys each bowed at the waist and said in loud unison, “Good day, your majesty.”
“Good day, Taysn, Ciro, and Dion.”
“Thank you,” Theyn said. “Go on then.” The boys resumed running and Theyn blew out a tired breath. He patted Erezion’s back and said, “You’re on princess duty. Have fun.”
Erezion appeared as though he would argue but heaved a sigh of his own before bowing to Serenity and running after the boys.
Serenity laughed. “That was mean, my joy.”
“That may be but I’m tired. The boys have been waiting for Nilam to come out this whole time. Alexa banned them from returning to the nursery until the sun goes down.”
“Mother always said children return in kind the same mischief we visited upon our own parents.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. I terrorized my parents when I was around my boys’ ages. And there was only one of me. My parents waited three decades before attempting to have another child.”
Chigaru snorted, agreeing Theyn in childhood had to have been a handful since the adult hadn’t matured much. Theyn was the joker of the Hell Hounds. He had played with Serenity more than protected her when he joined her bhresya collection. Because of that, she had started calling him her joy. Only in the last few years before Serenity’s marriage to Melchior had Theyn taken an interest in learning how to fight so he could be a better guard.
And though Theyn loved Serenity, it was a familial love. His wife showed no signs of the jealousy that plagued Melchior. In fact, Alexa’s love for Serenity equaled her husband’s. She alone had followed Serenity to Nexeu, the kingdom of the bhresyas, when Serenity’s other maids had abandoned their posts. The two had become like sisters, raising their children together. The children only learned proper forms of address because it was expected.
The Hell Hounds, Alexa, and Serenity were friends first.
Theyn clasped his hands behind his back and glanced between Serenity and Chigaru. “What are we doing?”
“Staying within the palace walls. I have an appointment with my husband later this day.” A small amount of heat crept up Serenity’s cheeks as she imparted that news.
Chigaru had a good idea what the appointment entailed. Serenity had taken Chigaru’s advice concerning her wish to continue holding a baby in her arms. She and Melchior were trying for another child. They had been trying for some time. The palace mages were at a loss as to why Serenity wasn’t pregnant yet.
The failure to conceive had started to worry Serenity more in the last month since Alexa had announced her third pregnancy. Only Chigaru knew of Serenity’s feelings of unease. He alone shared her deepest confidence—another source of Melchior’s jealousy. Serenity came to Chigaru with her innermost thoughts. He was her confidant. She hid nothing from him. He alone laid claim to that intimacy and Melchior hated it.
Chigaru bent down and whispered in Serenity’s ear, “Sword practice.”
Serenity sighed. “If we must.”
“Must what?” Theyn asked.
Chigaru didn’t answer and wouldn’t answer. When he spoke, he did so to Serenity and in a voice loud enough for her alone to hear. On rare occasions, he spoke to Nym, his second in command. He captained the Hell Hounds in silence. They had all grown used to that and learned to interpret his quiet commands.
Serenity said, “Sword practice.”
Theyn made a sound of understanding. “You’ve gotten better.”
“Are you practicing how to lie, my joy?”
“No and you know I speak the truth. You can hold the sword and have learned to block. That is better than in the beginning when you could barely lift the sword.”
“I did better with dagger practice.” She blew out an annoyed breath. “I don’t know why I practice any of it. Melchior has already decreed I will never shed blood.”
Chigaru whispered, “You learn for defense, not to fight.”
“No, I learn to keep from being bored.” She glanced the way the children had run. “Nilam no longer needs me. It’s lonely again.”
Theyn said, “You could help Melchior.”
Serenity’s blush returned. “No. We distract each other. The advisors grew tired of our flirting during meetings and suggested we distance ourselves or else nothing would be accomplished. Given the evidence, we both agreed. True queen I am, but my place is not always at my husband’s side.”
Chigaru placed his hand on Serenity’s back and urged her toward the training fields. She hesitated for two breaths before walking. Chigaru didn’t mind. It allowed him to indulge in the feel of her gentle heat against his skin. When she started walking, he moved his hand away.
This torture couldn’t go on. He couldn’t continue lusting after another man’s wife, knowing the day he could have her would never come. Perhaps the time had come for him to find a female to distract him and possibly marry him. But where? And who? What female would marry a man whose heart belonged to another?
* * * *
Present – Florida
Kitty wouldn’t and shouldn’t bang her head against the table in front of her.
She chanted that command to herself over and over. The temptation to try and knock herself out was high.
“Next,” Vincent called.
“Why?” Kitty grumbled under her breath.
“Hush.”
She let her head fall back and wished for plagues, natural disasters, anything to keep from watching another woman embarrassing herself. How many bad dancers existed in Florida? And had they all come to audition? If so, could Kitty order her bullet now?
A bleached blonde made her way to center stage.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Vincent shuffled through his papers before the woman answered.
“I’m Candy.”
“Uh huh. What’s your real name?”
The girl frowned and huffed before she said, “Diana Mordane. But I want to be called Candy on stage.”
“Sure. Whatever. How about you dance for us before we start talking stage names?”
Kitty rested one elbow on the table and her chin on her hand as a way of preparing herself to not be blown away.
The lights dimmed to the same level they would be on a normal night while the DJ cued up a club mix with heavy bass. Diana gyrated as she stripped. Kitty couldn’t describe her level of boredom at the girl shaking her butt and snaking her body while moving in time to the music. A typical club bounce. The first mistake most women made was thinking strippers strutted to music while taking off their clothes. It wasn’t art, but there was a technique to it that got men to give up money.
Diana had no technique. In fact, Kitty would pay the woman to stop dancing. Kitty’s eyes got big when Diana flounced her way to left stage before she turned and ran at the pole. Kitty held her breath, knowing what the girl was doing and knowing how bad it could be if she messed up.
The worst happened.
Diana missed. She had tried to build up momentum so she could swing around the pole. Most amateurs had to do that since they didn’t yet know how to control the spin. She jumped at the pole, managed to touch it, but the speed of her approach jerked it out of her hands and she went flying. Her butt skipped along the stage in time to the music.
Kitty laughed. She didn’t pretend to hide it like the other girls sitting in on the audition. After the pain of the last three hours, Kitty deserved this laugh. Even Vincent laughed, though he covered his with coughing and throat clearing.
The music stopped and the lights brightened. Kitty didn’t stop laughing now that Diana could see her. In fact, when Kitty saw Diana’s red butt cheeks after the woman stood up, she laughed harder. Diana stomped around the stage, snatching up her clothes all while glaring at Kitty.
Diana snapped, “It’s not that damn funny.”
“Yes, it is.” Kitty pointed at the entrance to the club. “Did you see those plaques on your way in? All those pole dancing awards? Red here”—she gestured to the redhead sitting on her right—“has placed in the top three of every competition she’s ever entered. She trained all the women in this club. We have a reputation of being the best pole show in town, possibly the state. If you don’t know how to work the pole, you say that up front and we could set up training. That is, if your dancing didn’t suck so bad. Instead, you chose to embarrass yourself. I, in turn, chose to laugh at you.”
Vincent said, “Don’t call us. We won’t call you. Next!” He balled up her résumé and tossed it over his shoulder.
Diana cursed them out as she left the room.
Red leaned over to Kitty and said, “You know we should be on a reality show. We could call it Stripper Idol or something.”
“That’s a good idea, Red. Thanks.” Vincent scribbled out a quick note on the pad next to him. A huge grin split his mouth, making him look like a jack-o-lantern. “Put that on pay-per-view and it could be a gold mine.”
Kitty bounced the back of her hand off Red’s arm. “Big mouth.”
“The only one with a big mouth around here is you, Kitty-honey. Keep it up and you’re going to get yourself in trouble one day.”
“You got my back, Red, ’cause you wuv me.” Kitty rested her head on Red’s shoulder and stared up at the woman with big, batting eyes.
“Get off.” Red shrugged her shoulders to displace Kitty’s head.
Kitty sat up and looked at the stage when the next woman entered. Nervous energy oozed from the woman’s every pore. This was definitely her first time at the rodeo. Kitty gave the woman the once over—athletic body, large breasts that looked natural, and a nice round behind that her jeans couldn’t fully contain. Three pluses.
Vincent asked, “Name?”
“Rhedyn Brantley.” She looked down the line of people sitting in judgment of her and then back to Vincent. “I know this is an audition to show my skills, but does that include stripping as well?”
“Duh,” Vincent snapped.
Kitty asked, “This is your first time stripping, right?”
“Yes. I’m a dancer. I mean, I went to school for dance and was a pro cheerleader for a while before I got married.”
Vincent whistled under his breath. “Get out. What team?”
“That doesn’t matter,” Kitty said, glaring at the man. “Show us what you got, with your clothes on, and we’ll go from there.”
“Sure.” She looked behind her and then faced front again. “I heard what you said to that girl Diana, so I wanted to say upfront I have no experience pole dancing.”
“Noted.”
Rhedyn smiled. It transformed her whole appearance. The woman was gorgeous. Perfect, white teeth sparkled in the bright lights. Kitty loved everything about this woman. If Rhedyn could dance, Kitty wanted her. The men would flock to this woman. That meant Kitty could step down. She prayed for skill.
The lights dimmed and the DJ cued up the same club beat from before. Rhedyn got into the rhythm and moved like there were already men waiting to tip her. Kitty had to applaud when Rhedyn managed to make her butt clap while wearing jeans. The woman had more than skill. She had talent.
When the music stopped and the lights came back up, Kitty and the others clapped. Vincent put his fingers in his mouth and whistled, which meant Rhedyn got the job. They just had to tell her.
Kitty opened her mouth to impart the good news when a man in a suit ran up to Vincent’s side and whispered in his ear. Vincent cursed under his breath and grumbled to himself before asking, “Really? She’s the best we’ve seen.”
The suited man said, “That’s what he said, man. You got a problem, take it up with him.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the VIP lounge.
Kitty looked at the second-floor, glass-enclosed room that acted as the VIP lounge when the owner wasn’t on site. Today he was there, choosing to help with the auditions as part of some hands-on initiative.
He had taken over the club a little over a year ago and fired half the staff. He’d then left the club to its own devises, abandoning those still working to overtime and double shifts while they searched for replacements. A search that had been slow going until a few weeks ago when the boss condescended to return and find out why the club wasn’t bringing in revenue like it should. Kitty had forgotten he was there since she hadn’t heard a peep out of him all day.
Vincent sighed then faced Rhedyn. “Sorry, sweetheart. I think you’re great. Even with your clothes on, I was ready to start giving you money.”
“Okay.” Rhedyn twisted her hands, her nervous energy returning.
“The boss says no. Since he owns the place, his word is law. Sorry.”
“I understand. Thanks anyway.” She started to walk away.
“Hold up,” Kitty snapped. “His word is law my ass. She is fantastic. She’s the best we’ve seen. I want her. Why the hell—”
A loud bang followed by the sound of cracking glass stopped Kitty’s tirade. She looked back at the VIP lounge again. The middle of the glass had splintered into tiny cubes. The bang must have been the sound of something hitting the glass. And it had to have hit hard because that was tempered glass meant to be bullet resistant.
Kitty growled before throwing herself onto her seat with her arms crossed over her chest.
Vincent said to Rhedyn, “Sorry again, sweetheart. Thanks for coming out. I’ll keep your résumé handy in case the boss changes his mind.”
Rhedyn nodded and left the building.
Kitty sat fuming for several breaths. This was unacceptable. More than that, she refused to let it stand. The man didn’t get to leave them high and dry for months on end and then come back to play lord and master when it suited him. She snatched up Rhedyn’s résumé.
“Leave it, Kitty.” Vincent tried to get the paper back but she whipped it out of his reach.
“Kiss my ass.” She glared at the VIP lounge. “Open the door. I’m coming up. And tell your goons to stand down.”
She stomped her way to the door of the VIP lounge and was actually surprised to find it open. The two men standing on either side of the door winked at her as she passed. One of them pulled the door shut behind her.
Before the boss could say anything, she yelled, “Ice, what the hell is your issue? We need her.” She waved the résumé to emphasize her point.
“I wanted that.” Ice plucked the résumé from her fingers and looked it over. “Thank you for bringing it up. Now good-bye.”
“Shove that bye up your ass. You’re going to tell me why we couldn’t hire her. I’m not leaving until you do.”
Ice glanced at her in a bored manner. “Leave through the door or the glass. Since I’ve already weakened the glass”—he waved his flushed knuckles at her—“going through it shouldn’t hurt much but the fall will. Your choice.”
“Try it.” She put her hands on her hips and looked down at him, waiting for him to touch her. At six foot two, Kitty didn’t intimidate easily. Ice was seven inches shorter than her and at least ten pounds lighter.
She knew him to be a badass, which had nothing to do with him being Asian, though it helped, and head of one of the strongest crime families in Florida. He’d made the original owner of the club disappear. She doubted the police would ever find the body, if one still existed. While all that should scare her, in her current mood, she dared him to start something.
Kristar (Bookstrand Publishing Romance) Page 2